


I don't want dishes in the sink/Don't ask me what I feel or what I think

by Bobsled_Hostage



Series: Rose <3 Kanaya <> Karkat <3< Rose Nonsense [5]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, Dissociation, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Meaningless Consent, Multi, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobsled_Hostage/pseuds/Bobsled_Hostage
Summary: Keeping the hive clean would be trivial, were it not for your gracious owners and their insistence on making a mess of you at every available opportunity.





	1. Chapter 1

You are, at this point in what you are (gradually, painfully) coming to accept will be your lifetime of servitude, reasonably well attuned to your owners.  You know what they like to eat and wear and how they amuse themselves.  You know their schedules and what they do professionally.  You know every intimate detail of their financial situation and more or less every possession they own, including yourself.  You know how they like to fight and how they like to fuck.  You know exactly how far you can push back before they put their feet down.  You know what will happen if you push them past that.   


Which is how, when Karkat storms in, a truly vile scowl smeared all over his face, you know the dishes you are currently elbow deep in will not be getting done any time soon.

If nothing else, he’s always refreshingly direct.  Not like his palemate, who flirts and banters and makes the whole thing almost fun. Until before you know it you’re grabbing your ankles over a pail while she ruins whatever you’re wearing (usually something she made), inadvertently sentencing you to the next several hours of chores with slurry periodically bubbling down your thighs until you can wash up.

Him, he just walks up and-

HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO BE BUSY WITH THAT?

That depends on the regularity with which I am interrupted.

Honestly, you don’t know how the hell he got to be in charge of anything, let alone an entire station.  The man has the patience of a spastic two year old.

As much as I’d love to drop what I’m doing and completely devote my attention to servicing you, I’m currently busy with these dishes.

You let a plate clatter into the soapy water for emphasis.

THEY’LL STILL BE THERE WHEN WE’RE DONE

Yes, they certainly will be.  As will the ring around the bathtub which set into the sheetrock after your moirail neglected to empty it yesternight.  And your uniform which has yet to be washed and pressed after you tossed it on the floor.  And the meal I have yet to prepare.  And the-

-BUNCH OF OTHER BULLSHIT I DON’T CARE ABOUT

How reassuring.  I’m sure you feel the same way when you’ve expended yourself in me, and, pan no longer fogged with mating fondness, found that my various assigned functions have not miraculously performed themselves in the intervening period.

ARE YOU HAVING TROUBLE FIGURING OUT WHAT FUNCTION I WANT YOU TO PERFORM NOW?  I’LL GIVE YOU A HINT: IT ISN’T ‘USE A WHOLE LOT OF ASININE WORDS TO DESCRIBE WHAT IS AT ITS CORE A SIMPLE UNDERLYING CONCEPT’

You roll your eyes, sigh theatrically in frustration, and begin to strip off your rubber gloves.  The plate covered in stubbornly crusted scorpion jelly will have to wait.  Just as it had to wait last night, when you went to soak it and were instead ambushed by Kanaya for similar purposes, peeling off the outfit she’d given you - and immediately found irresistible - in the process.  God this would all be so much easier if they just wanted a _ little less sex _ .

He undoes his belt while you fish a bucket out from under the sink.  (When they let you start buying things on their account for the hive, the first thing you did was order ten.  Kanaya drily wondered out loud whether this was some attempt to spite her.  You rejoined that if she and her diamond were going to repeatedly ambush you for lascivious purposes, it didn’t hurt to be prepared.  Judging by how much they’ve saved on rugs and throw coverings, you were correct.)  Sordid receptacle thus proffered, you introduce your knees to the kitchen tile and begin to remove your top.  The last thing you need is more laundry to do.  Within no time at all you’re stripped to the waist, guzzling bulge in the mealblock.

The balance of oral sex in this relationship is, you think, rather lopsided.  Kanaya has eaten you a grand total of twice, Karkat none whatsoever.  You’d entertained ideas about what she could do with her long, gray tongue but both times it essentially felt like a pale (no pun intended) imitation of her bulge.

(If, by some miracle, you ever find your way home, you don’t think you’d be able to go back to humans.)

His bulge is warm and fat, wriggling and trying to get as much of its stubby length as possible down your throat.  You look up, eyes misty and mouth full, to where he’s leaned up against the thermal hull behind you, trapping you in as he fucks your face.  Irritatingly, you find yourself rubbing your thighs together as you blow him.  Maybe it’s the bizarre insectile musk wafting off his sheathe, or the way you basically always end up wet when there’s a bulge in sight, as a form of damage control if nothing else.  You could ask him to do something about it, but that would mean either getting naked or making a mess of your clothes.  It would take longer, and Kanaya might get home before you finished.  And then she’d want a piece of you, and you’d have to go again with both of them, and it would be all night before you got back to work, and another before you got to sleep.  Better to just deal with it until you’ve got some time to yourself.  Then treat yourself: an orgasm completely on your own terms, followed by a moment with one of the many, many books you’ve yet to finish.

Or just skip straight to sleep, that sounds just as appealing in all honesty.

Speaking of orgasms, Karkat should be finishing up right about now.  You can always tell he’s reaching his limit when his smutty-yet-always-effusive praise trails off into little grunts and buzzes of satisfaction.  Just as well, your jaw is starting to hurt.  You back up off his bulge until it’s squirming in your face like a chubby red slug, whereupon you grab it with your hand.  Normally he has a thing about swallowing, but you want to finish this up without having to brush your teeth, so he’s going to have to live with a little cum dodging on your part.  You angle his bulge down and lift the pail with your other hand, just in time

FUCK, LALONDE, I'M- FUCK!

The sound of his material splattering the inside of the pail does nothing to solve the problem between your legs.  Like so much about your captors, it’s become something of an ingrained pavlovian trigger (You think, anyway.  You’ll never see a psychiatry text again).  You pump and squeeze and massage his bulge the way he likes as it ripples in your hand, squirting until the flow tapers off.  And you’re left with a sticky hand and a pail full of steaming hot troll jizz.

Karkat, still leaned against the hull, gathers his composure and hands you a clean dishtowel from the counter with one hand, tucking his bulge away with the other.  You accept it with a nod of thanks and wipe your hands, face, chest, and the few drops which made it onto the floor - in that exact order, no less.  That accomplished, you pull on your top - spotless thanks to your efforts, and rise from your chafing knees to your aching feet.

Karkat gives a harsh bark of laughter and makes a sweeping gesture at the sink.

SEE?  WHAT DID I SAY?  THE DISHES ARE STILL THERE.

You look him dead in the eye and spit a glob of ruby-red phlegm into the bucket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little like Seam by Seam, except instead of being poignant and deeply moving it's just lewd.


	2. Interlude

They claim to have purchased you to take the pressure off the various domestic problems they were all but buried under.  Kanaya was exhausted  Looking After Karkat.  Karkat was exhausted by Kanaya’s  CONSTANT FUSSING .

Of course, given the amount of frustration in their lives and total lack of any romantic attachment besides one another, it was basically inevitable what they’d  _ actually  _ use you for.

In that regard they aren’t much different from humans, you have to imagine.

Kanaya likes to fuck on your platform, holding you down with her immense strength while you sweat and thrash and fist your hands in the sheets.  Karkat likes to fuck in the big recuperacoon, where you feel like you’re drowning and have nothing to hold on to but him.  The latter is less comfortable, but the former always leaves a mess right where you sleep, no matter that you do your due diligence and set the pail out beforehand.

(When they share you, they compromise)


	3. Chapter 3

The dishes are done.  The ablution trap has been thoroughly scrubbed.  Karkat’s uniform has been subject to the myriad treatments necessary to restore it to its optimum color, shape and starchiness.  The tray of spiced roots and mantis legs is in the convection apparatus with explicit instructions for Karkat or Kanaya, whoever feels more competent, to remove at the appointed time.  You wanted nothing more than to collapse onto your platform, but you forced yourself to quickly shower and engage in the rudiments of personal grooming.  The warm water soothed your aches and kept you on edge as you leisurely fondled yourself.  The buzz between your legs was a persistent nuisance throughout the completion of your nightly tasks.  Now, in the room your hosts have so kindly deigned to demarcate as yours, on the platform they graciously allow you to sleep on, you roll your fingers lazily across your clit and imagine repaying the constant sexual attention they so lovingly subject you to on a nightly basis.

_ Karkat and Kanaya, hands bound behind them, facing one another.  Their bulges tangle together as they ride the horseshoe shaped sybian crammed up both their nooks.  They’re already exhausted from cumming so many times, to orgasm again would be more painful than pleasant, but they keep grinding, fearful of the inkvine coiled in your hand.  Kanaya starts to flag, sobbing as her movements become slower and less coordinated.  You lash her across her ass and she cries out, arching her back.  You give her another stroke for good measure, marking her spoon shaped hips with long, green welts.  Karkat tries to comfort her as best he can and you whip his grubscars.  The two of them cry and howl and keen and cum all over one another in an apocalyptic flood of slurry as you whip them again and again.  They beg you in tandem to please, please stop, please- _

Rose?

Kanaya knocking on the door.  That means you’ve got about three seconds to pull the sheets over you before- yup, there she is.  You roll over to peer at her as though she just woke you up.  (Like her sense of smell won’t tell her exactly what you were just doing)  She’s holding something in her hands, glowing softly in the dark room.

We Missed You At Dinner

I ate earlier tonight

Be That As It May I Thought You Deserved To Enjoy The Fruits Of Your Labors So I Prepared A Small Meal Service

How pump-shatteringly thoughtful of you

She sets the tray on the end table.  Judging by the smell, the mantis turned out alright.

Incidentally Karkat Extends His Compliments To The Chef

I’m ever so glad he approves.

I Have Spoken With Him At Length And We Have Decided That At This Juncture The Purchase Of The Cutlery Autoclave You Suggested Is Not Unwarranted

Wonderful.  Its ability to dissolve bodies as effectively as food waste won’t be a concern for station security?

Given Our Positions The Pair Of Us Are Quite Confident We Can Evade Any Regulatory Hurdles They Send Our Way

Always glad to hear that my advice in the management of this hive is being taken into account

Quite So

You contemplate picking at the tray in the interim before she gets to the real reason she’s in your room.

As Long As I Am Here There Is One Other Thing

Oh?

She looks at you like an owl would a mouse, eyes wide and bright.

It Has Been Quite Some Time... And It Was Karkat Who I Last Treated Myself To...

It puzzles you how she gets so gangly and awkward over this.  All the poise she tries to project in everything else she does, and yet she still can’t ask directly without resorting to shared, unstated assumptions.

Would You Mind Terribly If I Were To...

She licks her lips, running her long tongue over a fang, not needing to finish the sentence.  The both of you know exactly what she wants.

_ Yes, I would mind.  I came in here to sleep and I don’t want to deal with this right now.  I just got clean and I’m tired. _

You peel the sheet off your flushed, naked body.

She descends on you like the creature of the day she is.

 

(Being fed on is never as erotic as you once imagined it to be.  Yes, Kanaya inevitably wants to pail afterward.  But the actual bloodsucking is painful, uncomfortable, and leaves you too dizzy and weak to do anything but lie there and take her bulge like a limp rag as she pumps you.  The aftermath is at least nice.  She wipes you down and props you against something soft (or makes Karkat do it) and fixes you something to rehydrate, and you spend the rest of the night reading or dozing.  The second or third time she cleaned you up, you giggled and slurred something about the  _ saturnalia  _ from a half remembered book you’ll never see again.  Kanaya cocked her head the way she does when you say something inscrutable.)

(It can actually be worse when she feeds on Karkat.  Sometimes she deals with him after, but even when she pails in him instead of you there’s the chance you get stuck on cleanup, and he gets  _ absurdly clingy _ when he’s both well fucked and drained of blood.  It would be adorable if he didn’t squeeze hard enough to bruise.  Or if he’d be less of a sourpus when you get up to pee, or return to whatever task they interrupted, or to just have  _ five minutes  _ to yourself.)

This time she doesn’t even finish feeding before she puts it in.  Her teeth go into your neck, painful as usual, and before you know it she’s got her skirt hiked up and her long, long bulge is pushing its way between your drenched lips.  Legs spread as wide as they’ll go, you squeeze her tight and moan as blood leaves you and alien dick enters you.  She always takes too much when she gets like this.  Always apologizes profusely afterward and tries to make everything alright.  If nothing else it’s a night to catch up on sleep. Your grip around her gradually grows slack as she drains you

You at least get off before you pass out.


	4. Chapter 4

Karkat is reading one of your novels.  He looks over at you every few minutes to see if you’ve woken up and goes back to squinting at the page, subvocalizing the occasional word back to himself.  His eyes are awful at picking up fine detail but great at sensing movement.  So when you shift to get a better look at the cover, he immediately snaps to attention.  The rush of relief that visibly hits him when he realizes you’re awake is almost sweet.  Because he’s Karkat, it’s quickly replaced with a frown, and a gruff

OH, I’M SORRY, DID I WAKE YOU?

...Sadly yes.  I was enjoying a nap of my own volition and was rudely awakened by the thunderous crash of pages being turned.

YEAH WELL, I CAN’T SAY MUCH FOR YOUR TASTE IN LITERATURE.  IF I WASN’T THE PICTURE OF MAGNANIMITY I AM, I’D VETO YOU BUYING ANY MORE OF THIS DRECK FOR YOUR OWN GOOD.

I’m glad you read only enough to determine exactly how awful it was and did not feel the need to push on because you liked it.

...HOW LONG WERE YOU PRETENDING TO BE UNCONSCIOUS?

I have no idea what you’re talking about.

You’ve exchanged enough words to realize how completely parched your throat is.  You make to rise and are immediately encouraged to sit down by a wave of dizziness and Karkat pushing you back onto the couch, where it seems they saw fit to relocate you.

UNLESS YOU NEED SOMEONE TO HAUL YOUR DUMB ASS TO THE GAPER YOU AREN’T GOING ANYWHERE

Perhaps later, for the moment I could use something to drink, if it isn’t too much of an imposition on your-

CUT IT OUT, WILL YOU?

He pours a glass from a big pitcher of something orangey-pink and fruity - that dredgefruit or grapefruit or whatever-they-call-it-in-Alt-fruit juice that they know you like - and sets it on the stimulant plateau for you.  You have just enough willpower to avoid grabbing and gulping it immediately.

Your moirail is trying to bribe me.

WHAT ELSE IS NEW?

He looks at you and for a moment you’re worried that’s his I’m-ready-to-mount-you right-there-on-the-couch face.  You don’t usually like to beg but if he makes a grab for you it’s basically a sure thing because  _ no, please, I was literally just fucked unconscious, can you please at least  _ **_wait until I can walk_ ** _ before demanding another round you pompous piece of- _

He takes the chair across from you.  False alarm.

I THOUGHT YOU NEEDED A TRANSFUSION BUT KANAYA INSISTED YOU’D BE FINE.  AND ANYWAY, THE XENOLOGIST WE CALLED SAID HUMANS HAD ‘BLOOD TYPES’ AND EVEN THOUGH IT ALL LOOKS THE SAME THERE WASN’T ACTUALLY ANYONE ON THE STATION COMPATIBLE WITH YOU.

...How reassuring.

SHE SAYS SHE’S SORRY.

And that may very well be the case.  She is sorry, and will continue to be sorry, until the moment she forgets and does it again.  And again.

Karkat returns his attention to the book.  You get a look at the cover and determine that it is not, in fact, one of the better ones.

He doesn’t put it down.


	5. Chapter 5

The “cutlery autoclave” Kanaya mentioned before biting down arrives sooner than expected.  Your owners being out of the hive at the time, you supervised the installation of the thing.  The pair of gutterblood technicians were obviously perturbed at taking orders from a human, let alone a slave, but had been given explicit instructions to follow your explicit instructions to the letter.

Now the appliance gurgles with digestive enzymes, wafting scents of ketones and subtler chemicals as it scours any and all organic material off the dishes placed inside it.  You sit on the couch with the “backup phone” Karkat pretended not to notice you stealing out of his coat.  Sleep would be nice, but this could be your only chance to talk.

TG: so that’s eight hundred or so billable hours and one supply officer down the drain forever  
TG: except instead of a drain he more went down the maw of the big spiky red dinosaur thing they have as a chief justice  
TG: which was pretty fucked up to have to sit there and watch while she just cackled the whole time and stuck her tongue out like she was tasting the air  
TG: if i’m being brutally honest  
TG: like i’m a fucking paralegal i push pages around and deliver coffee and the occasional blowjob  
TG: i wasn’t even supposed to be there  
TG: <==dante hicks over here  
TG: anyway it turned out he was innocent  
TG: big deal egg on face  
TG: shit happens  
TT: Thank you Dave, that was horrifying.  
TG: yeah i aim to please  
TG: anyway what’s new with you  
TT: Are you asking because you genuinely want to know, or because you want to pass the ball my way rather than continue to dwell on your current circumstances?  
TG: can it not be both  
TT: Fair enough.  
TT: I dreamed about my mother again.  
TT: She was standing in the big plaza with the statue of the colony founders, looking up at something in the sky, through the dome.  
TT: I think it’s how I imagine she looked right before they landed.  
TT: When she turned to shout something to me, she had no face.  
TT: I felt like I was having a seizure, then I woke up.  
TT: I don’t know what it means.  
TT: I’m worried I might be forgetting what she looked like.  
TT: Do you ever dream about your brother?  
TG: leaving aside that you specifically just now asked me if i didn’t want to talk about my business anymore and i said i didn’t want to talk about my business anymore  
TG: yeah sometimes  
TG: i know i dream a lot more about sex than i used to  
TG: i think it’s my brain’s way of keeping me prepped in case she tries to jump me when i wake up  
TG: indicating that my journey from aspiring doctor of mixology to nominal legal intern to harem slave is nearing its completion  
TT: I was worried I was the only one.  
TG: man okay  
TG: if you’re going to agree with me there you gotta do it in a way that iterates on it and builds up the gag  
TG: instead of just bringing me crashing down to reality by straight up assenting that yes we actually are a pair of alien cumdumpsters  
TT: I’m sorry  
TG: no i was drawing the bit out see  
TG: nevermind  
TG: it’s fine  
TT: Is it?  
TT: I’ve caught myself thinking less in terms of harm reduction and more of the parts of it I actually like.  
TG: i think  
TG: as long as we can still recognize on some level this is all fucked up  
TG: like ‘i just let an alien lawyer blow her load in my ass and then cleaned her cock with my mouth to avoid being drubbed senseless with her walking stick’  
TG: ‘afterward we hit the pile and watched a cartoon show on the teevee where a two hundred foot greasy armored squid told us about the importance of good dental hygiene and informing on your friends’  
TG: ‘remember kids, inaction is conspiracy’  
TG: then we aren’t crazy  
TT: That’s one way of looking at it.  
TG: you got a better one?  
TG: don’t answer that  
TT: Alright.  
TT: Do you ever just  
TT: Go inside your head for a bit?  
TT: Fade out and think about a book you read, or the mold on the wall behind the load gaper you couldn’t get out and had to replace the tile, or how many millions of years it would take you to get home from here if you walked?  
TT: Until one of them pinches your nipple or some other fucking thing to make sure you’re paying attention to their bulges and not anything else that could possibly be important to you.  
TG: god i wish  
TG: nah i’m fully cognizant through the whole thing  
TG: it takes work to be this good at sex slavery  
TG: all these coldblood floozies can hardly keep their hands off this rockin bod  
TG: as much as i sometimes wish it were otherwise  
TG: speaking of which, check it

** turntechGodhead sent you an image **

It’s a selfie, of course.  He’s stripped to his boxers, lounging in a pile of stuffed animals, face totally impassive behind his ridiculous glasses.  Next to him is a tall, gray woman, totally naked and sleeping facedown, the tip of a long, pointed horn poking up into the frame through the eye of a stuffed lizard.  He’s drawn a cartoon of sorts on her back in marker.  When you reach the punchline, scrawled across the curve of her ass, you have to stifle a giggle.

TT: Very nice.

You know it isn’t all fun and games.  He’s got bruises on his hipbones, and tiny puncture scabs where someone’s clawed hands squeezed just a bit too tight.  If you zoom in and squint, you can just see the razor thin scars across his chest.  He’s got an interesting job and gets to travel, but you’re not sure you’d trade places with him.

TT: I don’t know how much longer I have.  
TT: Any word on the visit?  
TG: naw  
TG: i’ve been flagging all the cases in your sector but the lethalizer is taking a long orbit so it’s going to be a couple months at least before we’re in the neighborhood  
TG: which honestly isn’t a bad thing necessarily  
TG: i’ll have more shore leave saved up and it gives you longer to butter up the wonder twins and potentially arrange a playdate or whatever the hell they call it  
TG: a ‘mutual hatefriend caucus appointment’  
TT: I don’t know if I should broach the question now or wait until after something which leaves them favorably disposed toward me.  
TT: I really, really don’t want to fuck this up.  
TG: yeah me neither

You hear Kanaya outside fussing with the door, most likely around two armloads of groceries.

TT: I’ve got to go.  
TT: Please don’t die.  
TG: right back at you babyskates

You slip the device into your pocket and rise to help her put them away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like Contra Legum except without the nuance and sensitivity


	6. Chapter 6

Kanaya was very,  _ very  _ interested in you trying her nookworm.  You went beyond what’s appropriate for a domestic pail slave in refusing, but no way in hell is “Precious” ever going near your vagina.  Then Karkat wanted your ass, and of course you couldn’t get away with two refusals in a row.  You half sit, half squat in their laps, propped vertically between them: a tangle of six legs, six arms, a bulge in your pussy and a bulge in your butt.  The part of your brain you’ve retreated into notes that this is almost a perfect reversal of a fantasy you entertained several months ago during a stolen moment alone, moments before you were rudely interrupted.  As if on cue, Kanaya slaps your ass, snapping you back to reality, and the two trolls uncomfortably lodged sheathe deep in you. She hisses something lewd, either at Karkat or at you.  He shudders and touches her face, reaching over you and chirping something you don’t understand.  The whole situation is the perfect physical metaphor for your position in this claustrophobic little family: sandwiched between them, buffeted back and forth, used to soak up and launder their confused feelings for each other.  Or for you.  You know enough to know why Karkat’s eyes smoulder when he glares at you.  Why Kanaya keeps doing things she thinks are sweet or kind.

When it’s over you collapse, no longer propped up by a pair of sex crazy space bugs.  The comforter spread out on the respiteblock floor is practically soaked through with two trolls and a human’s worth of ejaculate.  Most likely the cushions beneath it are in a similar state.  You foggily congratulate yourself on putting down a tarp below that.  They buzz happily like they always do, communicating in moirail-speak or possibly just making reflexive animal sounds.  The droning proves enough to put you to sleep before you can rise, no matter how your brain insists that you’re a complete mess and there are still tasks yet unfinished.

 

Later, after you’ve douched and showered and squeezed the fabrics out into a pail and deposited them in the sanitation hopper and made sure your new cuts are superficial and not about to get infected, you return to the stack of correspondence, bills and other assorted paperwork you were busy handling for your wonderful hosts.  Wincing slightly as you sit down, of course.

One of the documents on the feedgrub catches your eye.  Exactly as Dave said it would arrive, a mass mailing to every hive on the station: the _Lethalizer_ , arriving within the next two cycles on business for Her Imperious Condescension’s Justice System, be warned, etc etc, docking blah blah - _coming aboard station: one human slave.   As a representative and property of the Courtblock, any attempt to bestow bodily harm upon his person will be dealt with to the fullest extent of the law._

It’s now or never.

Karkat and Kanaya are in the observation block, retreading some familiar, comfortable argument.  Your throat goes dry.  Your ears heat up.  The worst they can do is so much worse than say no, and even saying no will crush you.  Is it better to simply steal out in the middle of the night?  They might not even be home, and you can’t imagine they’d punish you  _ that  _ severely.  And even if they did, it would be worth it.  You’d get to spend a night with-

Rose Pumpbiscuit We Can Hear You Hovering

...Excuse me and deepest apologies, Mistress, I was merely performing some manner of unspecified but doubtless vitally important task right outside door.

INCREDIBLE.  GREAT JOB.  WHAT DO YOU WANT?

Well since you asked so nicely, Master, I was going through the messages to the hive and I came across one which I thought might be of some-

COOL, A BUNCH MORE WORDS THAN I NEEDED TO HEAR.  GET TO THE POINT ALREADY!

Karkat Dear Do You Not Think That Perhaps Some Context Would Be Helpful

HERE’S THE CONTEXT: KARKAT JUST SAID HURRY THE FUCK UP!  IS THAT ENOUGH CONTEXT?  DID I WEAVE A RICH ENOUGH TAPESTRY FOR YOU TO DRAPE THIS NARRATIVE ACROSS?  WHAT LITERARY FLOURISHES WOULD COMPLETE YOUR LISTENING EXPERIENCE, SWEETEST MOIRAIL OF MINE?

Well You May Be Mixing Your Metaphors But Since You Asked

There is going to be another human on the station and I was wondering if I could have some time off to go and see him.  You blurt it out in one breath before you can change your mind.

A Human?

Yes Mistress.

That Was An Invitation To Provide More Detail And Not Merely Attempt To Further Ingratiate Yourself To Me

Some variety of paralegal in the service of one of Her Imperious Condescension’s Legislacerators.

THERE’S NOT A SINGLE THING IN THAT SENTENCE THAT DOESN’T SOUND HORRIBLE.

I know it's lot to ask but please-

SHUT UP FOR A SECOND.  THIS IS SOMEONE WHO WORKS FOR THE COURTBLOCK.  I THOUGHT YOU’D PICKED THIS UP BUT SINCE IT APPARENTLY NEVER PENETRATED YOUR THICK FUCKING NUGBONE I’LL EXPLAIN IT TO YOU: LEGISLACERATORS ARE BAD FUCKING NEWS!

I Must Concur With Karkat

DID YOU THINK I WAS SERIOUS WHEN I SAID YOU SHOULD BE STRUNG UP FOR THAT PUN YOU MADE ABOUT THE LAMP THE OTHER NIGHT?  BECAUSE THAT’S PRETTY MUCH A GIVEN WHEN YOU’RE DEALING WITH THEM.  I KNOW IT’S A HUMAN SO YOU THINK YOU’LL HAVE SOME KIND OF

I know him.

How?

We exchanged correspondence in our youths… before we were taken.

Karkat scoffs.   YEAH, THERE’S NO OTHER WAY YOU POSSIBLY COULD HAVE COMMUNICATED WITH HIM.

Oh no.  Oh no this is the part you were afraid of.  They weren’t  _ really  _ going to let you get away with making friends on the internet, not-

Was He A Human Quadrant Analogue Of Yours?

...He was important to me.

OH GOD, THIS IS HOW IT STARTS, ISN’T IT?  HE GETS YOU HUMAN BANGED UP, THEN SUDDENLY WE ALL GET DRAFTED INTO PLAYING LUSUS FOR THE WRIGGLER.

Karkat

I promise I-

YOU KNOW WHAT?  NO, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT.  TAKE THE FUCKING NIGHT OFF AND GO PLAY HIDE THE GRUBTUBE WITH THE HANGMAN.

What

What

I Suppose I Could Find It In My Sanguine Pump To Look After The Hive Myself For A Few Hours

You could kiss them.

BUT I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU COME BACK AND HE GAVE YOU A PARASITE IT’S GOING STRAIGHT OUT THE AIRLOCK

Noted.  I will mentally prepare myself to jettison any fetuses that come into being as a result of our dalliance together.

Karkat scowls.  Kanaya giggles.  You’re irritated that both of these things make you happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like all those other fics I stole from, except different


	7. Chapter 7

It’s a few nights of mundane hivekeeping and anxious thank-you-please-don’t-change-your-mind sex before the time arrives.  You made sure to act like you were going out half an hour earlier than expected, so that when Karkat demanded one final show of gratitude, you had plenty of time to deal with him and clean up.  He demanded his nook eaten, bulge squirming and leaking all over your hair until he came all over your face.  You set your clothes out to soak, washed up, and were out the door at the appointed time, acting suitably irritated to give him the sense of caliginous victory he craved.

You wear a collar outside the hive.  It’s some soft yet sturdy fabric or bioweave.  It has both their signs emblazoned on it, visual shorthand for who you belong to.  And who will bring a thunderbolt of retribution down on anyone who accosts you.  Kanaya once wondered out loud if a tattoo of the same might communicate the same information and be easier to accessorize around, if displayed in a suitably prominent location on your body.  Karkat grumbled that it would absolutely kill your resale value.  Kanaya slapped him and he laughed, so you think (hope) he was joking.

The promenade is busy.  It always is when a new ship puts in.  Trolls of every size, shape and description leer and jeer and jostle, but always stop just short of actually touching you.  Big rustbloods with soft bellies and bulging muscles who toss their curly hair and squeeze their tits at you in raucous milking gestures, hooting and howling about mammals and how sweet they taste.  Rangy bluebloods who lick their lips and pass long index fingers through their closed fists, inviting you back to their quarters for a couple of drinks and a bulge chaser.  You continue to hope Karkat was joking.

 

You agreed you’d meet Dave in the atrium.  Some horticulturalist or engineer thought it was a beautiful idea to build out part of the inside curve of the habitat ring as a nature preserve, complete with species handpicked from dozens of worlds for compatibility, visual appeal, and minimal danger.  There was even a water feature planned at one point.

It’s not as nice as all that, everyone interested in maintaining it having long since died or been rotated out to other assignments.  All weeds and overgrowth now, and the ferns they have instead of grass all crumbled and dry and dead.  But Kanaya has a corner of it that she keeps trimmed and watered and cared for, hidden behind a thicket of stranglevines.  You could tell when she showed you that it was special to her.  If you’d been free, if she’d been a friend instead of an owner, you think you would have liked it.  As it stands it’s never very crowded, and it always reminds you vaguely of the main dome just outside where you were born.

 

There’s someone there.  You stop to listen before you scoot around the final stand of calcified lianas.  Someone’s drumming their fingers on lacquered wood, barely audible over the sound of air circulators and vermin scuttling in the undergrowth.  You recognize the beat.

It takes a few deep breaths to get you enough composure to round the corner.  He’s sitting on a bench in a loose fitting tunic in shades of dull and bright red.  Around his neck is a collar, more sophisticated than yours but still bearing the sign of his owner: a kinked, arced line over a straight line.  He’s peaked from too many perigees without moonlight, long nights spent on casework under the lantern bugs they use aboard ship.  His fingers tap nervously, but when he looks up at you his face is totally blank behind his stupid mirrorshades.

hey rose

H-

Your throat is dry

Hello Dave

You didn’t think this far ahead.  This is the first human being you’ve spoken to out loud since you were taken.  You’ve exchanged audio files so you know what your voices sound like but you don’t know what to say now that you’re actually here talking to him.

He scoots over on the bench.  You nod thanks and sit down, smoothing your skirt and folding your hands in your lap carefully.  What do you say to him?   _Nice to finally meet you?  How was your trip over?  Execute any interesting defendants lately?_

You look over at him.  He conspicuously does not look at you.  You look away.  He continues drumming his fingers nervously.  You take a deep breath and scoot a little closer.

...Is this okay?

what?

This.  My scooting closer to you.

why would that not be ok

Nevermind.

ok

You lift your hand.  You can feel him watching you from behind the glasses.  Slowly you move it to his arm.  He’s tense like a wire but doesn’t flinch away.  His sleeve is some kind of soft fabric, the kind they print on demand from the shipboard fabricator worms.  You don’t know what the correct thing to do is.  You can’t remember what the correct thing to do is when you meet someone in person for the first time is.  So you scoot until you’re close enough to get both your arms around him.  You don’t know if it’s appropriate, but it’s what you always imagined doing when he messaged you panicking - because he filed something important wrong and he knew Terezi would find out, or because she had her horrible, horrible kismesis over.  He’s still stiff.  You’re doing something wrong.  He has to spend every night being handled whether he wants it or not.  He wants to go ten minutes without someone pawing at him.  You pull away.

I’m sorry.

what why

I thought…

You can’t speak.  You’re fucking everything up.  You can’t look at him.

here

He puts a hand on your shoulder.  A second later the other one goes on your other shoulder and he hugs you.  Like he’s not sure where to put his hands.  You turn and press yourself into him, squeezing as tight as you can now that he’s given you permission.  He’s just doing it to make you happy but you’ll be selfish this one time because you want it so badly and you’ll take anything.  He smells like trolld spice and the chemical shower he took coming off the ship.  He smells like another human being.  He smells like _home_ .  Of course you lied to your owners about where you knew him from.  You’ve never set eyes on Dave in person until now.  But you could believe that in another life you’d meet this boy and sit on a bench somewhere with plants all around and different stars up above but still stars and _it hurts_ .  The aching sense of loss crashes over you and you’re drowning beneath _family_ and _when I grow up I want to be_ and memories of hide and seek in maintenance tunnels, of stolen sips of medicinal alcohol your friends passed around, gagging and laughing at the reek and the awful, awful taste.

You cry for a while.

 

He holds you and doesn’t try that horrible face touching thing Karkat and Kanaya try when you Reach An Abnormal Level Of Distress or FREAK THE FUCK OUT.  After a while he starts to hum something.  One of his own compositions, or just something half-recalled from his own stolen childhood.  You don’t have the right to be so fragile around him, he was taken even younger than you.  Or is it worse to have been older?  To remember more of what you’re missing.

you gonna be ok?

I’m sorry, you didn’t come out here to have to take care of someone, you must  *sniff* must get enough of that any other day of the week.

heh

*sniff* That’s not a joke, I really don’t mean to be such a soggy snuggleplane.

i know but i literally cannot remember the last time i heard someone call it a day instead of a night

You smile at that, just a little.

Neither can you.


	8. Interlude 2

CG: I NEED YOU TO DO ME A FAVOR  
GA: Hm  
CG: I NEED YOU TO COME OVER TO THE SOUTH SIDE OF THE RING, WALK INTO ANNEX 36 AND LOBOTOMIZE EVERYONE IN THE BLOCK  
CG: INCLUDED BUT NOT LIMITED TO THE BOARD OF PLANNERS, THE REPRESENTATIVE FROM ENGINEERING, AND ME  
GA: That Bad  
CG: YOU HAVE NO IDEA  
CG: IF I HAVE TO AUSPICITIZE BETWEEN THESE BUCKET KICKERS FOR SIX MORE SECONDS I’M GOING TO TAKE FLEET’S RECOMMENDATION FOR DEVELOPMENT AND ADD TEN MORE MODULES TO ONE SIDE OF THE RING  
CG: SENDING IT SPINNING OUT OF ORBIT AND MERCIFULLY EXTINGUISHING ALL OUR LIVES  
GA: That Is Certainly One Way To Go About It  
GA: I Am Glad Command Of The Station Is In Your Capable Hands  
CG: NICE TO HEAR SOMEONE APPRECIATES MY INCREDIBLE LEADERSHIP  
CG: HOW’S YOUR NIGHT GOING?  
GA: It Has Been Absolutely Wonderful  
GA: I Am Simply Ecstatic That Say  
GA: Nobody From The Lethalizer Brought Aboard Any Diseases That Have Infected Any Of The Fish Trolls Aboard The Station  
GA: It Is Nice That This Did Not Happen  
GA: It Is Also Nice That None Of These Hypothetical Patients Have Panicked And Demanded Miracle Cures For These Diseases Despite Their Ultimately Superficial Nature And The Proper Treatment Being A Simple Vermifuge Which Will Purge The Offending Biotics In Due Time  
GA: It Is Nice That None Of Them Threatened Dire Retribution Against Me If I Did Not Instantly Rid Them of These Ailments  
GA: Like The Dumb Fucking Waders They Are  
CG: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY WORRIED ABOUT THEM?  
GA: No  
CG: IF I HAVE TO CRACK SOME NUGBONES JUST SAY THE WORD  
GA: Thank You Pumpbiscuit But That Will Not Be Necessary  
GA: And In The Event That It Does You Will Be The First To Know  
CG: DAMN RIGHT I WILL  
CG: SPEAKING OF NASTY THINGS COMING OFF THE LETHALIZER, ANY WORD ON LALONDE?  
CG: HAS SHE BEEN STRUNG UP YET?  
GA: I Have Not Heard Of Any Such Thing  
GA: She Has Not Checked In Yet Via Trollian Me  
GA: And If She Has Not Checked In With You Either It Is Therefore Not Outside The Realm Of Possibility  
GA: Alternatively She May Just Want To Enjoy Her Time With Her Human Friend Alone Without Any Reminders That We Are Waiting For Her When She Returns  
CG: IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE DIRECTED AT ME?  
GA: If The Shoe Fits  
CG: I KNOW YOU HAVE TROUBLE REMEMBERING THIS SOMETIMES BUT SHE’S A SLAVE  
CG: BEING REMINDED THAT WE’RE WAITING FOR HER WHEN SHE RETURNS IS HER HOBBY AND HER JOB  
CG: AND YOU’RE ONE TO TALK  
CG: YOU REALLY THINK YOU’RE DOING ANY FAVORS TRYING TO SMOTHER HER WITH PAINFULLY OBVIOUS RED FEELINGS?  
GA: Are You Going To Bring That Into The Conversation  
GA: Trolls Who Live In Wooden Hives Should Not Throw Bottles Of Inflammable Liquid  
CG: FUCK OFF, THAT’S DIFFERENT  
CG: SHE’S NOT MADE OF PAPER  
CG: YOU’VE HEARD THE WAY SHE TALKS TO ME, SHE CAN HANDLE IT  
GA: Can We Please Not Have This Conversation Right Now  
CG: YOU BROUGHT IT UP  
GA: Yes And For That I Appologize  
GA: I Am Rapidly Realizing That We Are Both Under Considerable Stress And Arguing Over This Right Now Will Not Do Any Of Us Any Good  
GA: Especially Given That We Will Both At Any Moment Be Recalled To Deal With The True Geniuses Of Being We Have Just Now Been Complaining About A Few Lines Up  
CG: POINT TAKEN  
CG: JAM WHEN WHEN WE GET OFF WORK?  
CG: WE’LL HAVE THE HIVE TO OURSELVES  
GA: I Fail To See What Difference That Makes  
CG: DON’T PRETEND YOU’RE SO COMFORTABLE WITH LALONDE AROUND THAT YOU DON’T HAVE SHIT YOU’D RATHER KEEP BETWEEN THE TWO OF US  
GA: I Will Pretend Whatever I Please  
CG: DON’T I KNOW IT  
CG: SEE YOU IN SEVERAL LONG, GRUELING HOURS  
GA: <>  
CG: <>

 

* * *

 

AG: So anywayyyyyyyy  
AG: How’s your 8oytoy?  
GC: HOW’S MY WH4T?  
AG: Read it in a 8ook  
AG: It means “a male slave retained mainly for pailing”  
GC: D4V3 1S NOT M41NT41N3D M41NLY FOR P41L1NG!  
GC: H3 1S 4 V4LU3D M3MB3R OF OUR L4W OFF1C3 4ND 4NY S3XU4L DUT13S H3 P3RFORMS 1N TH1S C4P4C1TY 4R3 PUR3LY CO1NC1D3NT4L  
AG: Suuuuuuuure they are  
AG: Anyway what’s he 8een up to?  
GC: H3 1S T4K1NG 4 L34V3 OF 4BS3NC3 TO V1S1T 4 FR13ND  
AG: He’s what????????  
AG: Terezi I don’t know how many times I need to tell you what a 8ad idea it is to give him so much leeway!  
AG: He’s uppity enough already without you letting him get ideas a8out visits and friendship and thinking he’s people  
AG: He doesn’t need shore leave or babies or whatever the fuck it is humans do when you let them off their leash  
AG: He needs to 8e strung up 8y his wrists so you can knock some sense into him!!!!!!!!  
GC: 1 KNOCK S3NS3 1NTO H1M WH3N H3 34RNS 1T BY V1RTU3 OF H1S 4CT1ONS  
GC: SUCH 1S TH3 FOUND4T1ON OF JUST1CE  
GC: NOT TH4T 1’D 3XP3CT YOU TO UND3RST4ND 4NYTH1NG 4BOUT TH4T >:P  
AG: ;;;;)  
AG: How did he even make friends with someone?  
AG: If you say ‘8y using imperial communications hardware for non work rel8ed purposes’ I swear to god I’m gra88ing a helm over there to give him a piece of my mind  
AG: Along with my 8oot and a couple other things  
GC: MY MY M1SS S3RKET, WH4T 4N UNCH4R4CT3R1ST1C CONC3RN FOR RUL3S 4ND PROC3DUR3  
GC: 1F 1 D1DN’T KNOW B3TT3R 1’D S4Y YOU W3R3 GO1NG OUT OF YOUR W4Y TO G3T UND3R MY C4R4P4C3!  
AG: You and your 8ig ego!  
AG: Why does everything I do have to 8e a8out you?  
AG: Can I not just have this thing 8e important to me?  
AG: You’re always telling me I need to get more reeeeeeeeal principles, is it so hard for you to entert8in the possi8ility that this is one of them?  
CG: Y3S  
AG: Oh get off your high hoof8east!  
AG: Like I don’t know you just let him get away with things 8ecause you’re sweet on him  
AG: It’s one thing to get m8ing fondness for a piece of meat and put your 8ulge in it  
AG: It’s another to start getting ideas a8out quadrants!  
GC: W3LL P3RH4PS YOU’LL G3T TH1S 1D34  
GC: 1F YOU’R3 SO CONC3RN3D 4BOUT PROPR13TY YOU SHOULD KNOW TH4T SORT OF SL4ND3R 4G41NST 4 R3PR3S3NT4T1V3 OF TH3 CRU3LL3ST B4R 1S 4 H4NG1NG OFF3NSE!  
GC: ON3 WH1CH 1 W1LL 3XCUS3 TH1S ON3 T1M3 4ND NO OTH3R  
AG: Oh, did I strike a neeeeeeeerve?  
AG: Seriously, it’s unhealthy  
GC: WORRY 4BOUT YOUR OWN H34LTH M1SS, BLU3B3RRY  
GC: B3FOR3 1 G1V3 YOU R34SON TO  
AG: Whatever  
AG: I got a meeting coming up with the admiralty  
AG: So catch you l8er 8itch  
AG: <3<  
GC: <>  
GC: >;]

gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased trolling arachnidsGrip [AG]

AG: W8 no!  
AG: Not again!  
AG: God d8mmit!!!!!!!!


	9. Chapter 9

You leave the atrium, holding hands.  His fingers feel strange, just about the same temperature as yours - and the texture all funny and soft too.  But he squeezes your hand when the big pair of greenbloods swagger by and make lewd, threatening gestures at the both of you.  He gestures back with his free hand and you smile.  You’re having  _ fun _ .

so what do you want to eat?

Something which requires absolutely no effort or preparation on my part.

hot damn my thoughts exactly

He blows a kiss to a hulking landpurple, who bursts out laughing.

but let’s say we live in a hypothetical universe where you have preferences of some kind and i want to know what they are so i can indulge them in the one night we have together before we go back to our respective lives as live-in slurry receptacles

...Well when you put it that way, noodles would be nice.

 

The rustblood at the noodle place doesn’t seem to think so.  She seems to think it would be nice if the two of you fucked off back where you came from before you started a riot in her restaurant.  It takes a bit to convince her that you beetles are just as purple as the next customer and your owners (you point to your collars) will be less than happy to come down and discuss the matter if you aren’t able to place an order and pick up their food.  That gets her moving, and in no time she’s ladling thin cuts of steakweasel, handfuls of noodles, and steaming hot broth into a pair of styrofoam cups.  You top it off by picking out a pair of mealchelicerates  out of the murky tank in the back for her to fry up.

Not that I think either of us need any reminding of what we have to return to after this little outing, but you didn’t steal that money did you?

nah i just took it out of petty cash

Good.

It’s bad enough knowing what’s waiting for you, without worrying about Dave picking up a fresh set of scars.  Soon the little bubble you’ve ensconced yourselves in will pop, and you’ll be wrenched back into your respective real worlds.  It’s so real that when you wake, you won’t know whether you’re a slave dreaming she’s a girl, or a girl dreaming she’s a slave.

Your conversation dries up quickly.  Neither of you want to talk about your owners or your lives, the exact things you came out here to escape.  You’ll wait until you’re somewhere more private to talk about your childhoods because there’s a good chance that just starts the waterworks up again (but it’s so good to finally talk to someone who understands, who won’t just buzz and shoosh and expect you to be up for sex in half an hour).  You like completely different sorts of books and music and movies.  You don’t remember how to talk in person with another person.

The noodles are salty and savory and very good.  It takes both hands to fish them out of the cups with the faux-rodgrass utensils.  You lean into Dave as you walk and slurp.

 

Part of “shore leave” is a rented hex in the honeycomb of temporary hives, packed in with all the other spacers making the most of a night or so’s borrowed time before their next sojourn to the stars.  It’s barely more than a platform and an ablutioncloset, but it’s private.  It’s  _ yours _ .

Well, it’s his.  And only for a night.  And only if Terezi doesn’t call him back to the ship.

You give your aching feet a rest and lie on the platform with him.  He tells you what he remembers about his brother.  You hold him while he does the thing with his breathing and his voice that he does instead of crying.  That was something he learned not to do early on.

You both do a lot of babbling, all things you could never say to your owners or to any troll.  Things that would drive you crazy if you didn’t get them out into words to someone.

Eventually you decide to pail.  Neither of you are crazy for it, but this could be your only night together.  Better to do it and regret then to not do it and wonder if you should have.  It’s slow and anemic and neither of you have any idea what you’re doing.  You’re both lost without claws or chitinous plates or squirming genitals that fit together with yours better than any human’s ever could.  It isn’t working so you tell him to do it harder, until he fucks you hard enough to bruise.  You still get nowhere until you try picturing them.  Slamming viciously into you from behind, hands cuffed so you can’t stop your head from hitting the headboard.  Looming over you like a gorgeous green vulture, whispering how good you are as you ride her bulge.

Dave almost forgets to pull out.

By the time you’re done wiping down - and that part at least is better with a human - the fried arthropods in their little wax paper bags are cool enough to eat.  You postulate, between crispy bites, that based on your recent experience, sex with trolls fits the definition of a superstimulus to a tee.  Dave rolls over so that his head is pillowed on your belly and asks what the hell that means.  It’s been so long since you even read the word - another lifetime away.  You recall some faltering analogy about plaguegnawers and wireheading, which Dave takes on a long, involved tangent, complete with fractally nested asides and compounded in-jokes that only stop when you idly wipe your greasy fingers in his hair.  He tries to smear his hand across your face in reply.  Reflexively, you open your mouth and take his fingers onto your tongue.  It takes a moment of stunned silence before you both laugh at what you just did, and how you both know exactly why.

His eyes are a beautiful red behind his glasses, maybe redder than Karkat’s.  This may be the happiest night - no, day, you’ll always remember this one as a day - of your life.  It isn’t as though you have much to look forward to.

 

You take the long way back around the station.  Walking the entire length.  Dragging things out as long as possible.  Talking about everything you can think of to keep your mind off the reality of what’s waiting for you at the end.  For both of you.  Dave plays his part but eventually both of you are silenced by the futility of it.  You stop to linger in front of every imaginable thing or come up with reasons for further detours, but it’s all just futile.  The path takes you inevitably back to the officers’ section of the habitat.  Right back to the door of your hive.

so you know there’s no guarantee that this is actually goodbye right?  for all i know the ship could be here a perigee

You pull him into a tight hug that you never want to end.  You need it to last long enough to fix it in your memory, so that no matter what happens you’ll never forget that for just one day you got to pretend you were people.  He wants so badly to whisper something comforting, you know because so do you, like  _ i promise we’ll see each other again, _ but he can’t do it.  You kiss, not pale or red but  _ please remember me _ .   _ I hope I remember you _ .

He leaves.  You watch him leave.  He doesn’t turn and look back.  If he did one of you would rush toward the other and have to start the whole process over again.  You wish he would but you don’t move.  Don’t cry out to him.

Behind the door is a lifetime of domestic horror that you’ve put on hold.  It’s waiting for you, kept warm by your wonderful owners.

_ Wait, please, come back _

_ Take me with you _

_ No no no no no no _

 

You press your thumb to the proboscis of the accessbeetle and step inside.


	10. Epilogue

Nobody greets you.  There’s a new pair of slippers set out where Kanaya knew you’d find them.  The old ones, which had just started to fit right, are nowhere to be found.  There are dishes in the sink, which you rinse and store in the autoclave.

Your gracious hosts are piled in Karkat’s block, naked and smushed together and making their usual little insectile whining sounds of sleep.  They look so sweet together.  You can almost forget that usually when they fall asleep with their hair all tousled, it’s after they’ve both pailed inside you.  Satisfied that neither of them require your immediate attention, you quietly go to work on getting their things laid out for tomorrow.

It’s frightening how comforting your nightly routine is.  You just… slip back into your role as a domestic slave and companion.  Like you never left.  Because you didn’t.  You played house for a day and now that it’s over and the lights are out you can see the future you were hiding from:

Kanaya will finally make good on her promise to pick out ink and piercings for you, because you are a pretty thing she likes dressing up.  Karkat will follow suit because he loves marking you, and he’ll relish something you can’t simply wipe off your face.  Kanaya will do things she thinks are nice, buying you gifts and trying to make things a little easier.  Karkat will be rough but never rougher than he thinks you can handle, mistaking your grudging tolerance for reciprocation.  Things get a lot murkier as you look forward, but you don’t see a happy ending.  Especially in the long run.  If you’re lucky, their feelings for you will convince them to overlook your failings once parts of you stop working one after another.  You recall a joke you heard once about old pail-slaves that does nothing to reassure you.  And that’s all if you haven’t been sold before then.  There’s no guarantee they’ll still want you in a sweep.  Let alone longer.

That scares you.  It scares you because a new owner would mean new routines and new rules and new demands and new bruises every time you fuck up.  You’re not dumb, you know you could have it a lot worse than you do.  But it also scares you because you’d miss them.  You’d miss the way they argue, and Kanaya’s glow, and Karkat’s raspy voice, and when they make you beg for it, and when they make you scream.

(A part of you screams  _ no, I hate all those things.  I can’t stand those things. _

That part of you gets smaller every night, for all that you mourn its passing.)

The phone in your pocket buzzes.  You hesitate to pull it out.  If it’s Dave saying something uplifting or encouraging or comforting you’re going to shatter into a million pieces.  Wake up Kanaya and Karkat with your sobbing and weeping and carrying on.

The membranous film of the touchscreen is warm as you bring the device to life.

** turntechGodhead sent you an image **

You open it.

 

You laugh loud enough to wake the entire station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who stuck with the story and waited for me to get this far.


End file.
